Love Through Your Eyes
by Hogwarts Duo
Summary: A simple evening in the lives of Charles and Elsie as they explore their love ... through each others eyes.


**Love Through Your Eyes**

**A/N:** Just a sweet little moment in the lives of Charles and Elsie. It's rated "M" for a reason. We hope you will enjoy the story.

His fingertips ghosted over the slender column of her neck like a feather floating on the wind. His lips soon followed, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. He paused in his exploration when he heard a sharp intake of breath, realizing he'd just discovered something else about Elsie Hughes, something which went far beyond anything else in his world. He lingered there, letting his warm breath, supple lips, and teasing tongue draw more of her soft moans past those sweet lips which he longed to taste once more. Gently, he slid his free hand up the left side of her throat and into her hair, drawing her head down so her forehead rested on his shoulder, her body leaning into his as he continued to taste her sweet skin and revel in the quiet sighs and moans falling from her with each breath.

She couldn't quite believe it, even as he drove her to the brink of utter abandonment and wantonness. As tall and broad-shouldered as Charles Carson was, the tenderness she felt in his touch was beyond anything she could have ever imagined. Strong hands held her to him, but not with possessiveness but with a reverence, an attitude of cherishing her, a strong desire to love her alone and to be loved by only her. She no longer cared to fight the desires within her, to deny what she knew in her heart to be true. She loved him with all of her being, loved being held in his arms, kissed by his lips, touched by his hands, wrapped entirely in love by his mere presence in her life. She moaned deeply, clutching at his sides in a desperate attempt to draw him closer to her, to give way to every desire and emotion, to feel what it was like to lose control while gaining it in the arms of another, the only other person in the world to her.

Deftly, his nimble fingers worked to unfasten the buttons of her dress. How she managed to dress herself in the mornings with all these tiny buttons was beyond him. Perhaps, in the fresh light of day, she might show him, allow him to watch her as she dressed, allow him to witness the beauty of her movements as the first rays of sunlight peered through her window and caressed her skin. Now was not the time for such musings, though. Now was the time for helping her shed the weights of the household, the daily duties, even the world, and to be free … with him … just Charles and Elsie as he always hoped it would be in the end.

Layers upon layers of clothing, she thought. Too many layers for her taste at the moment, but they were so very much a part of him. Rigid collar representing the rules of society and the household they served. The waistcoat and vests, shielding his inner self from prying eyes which only saw him as a servant, a fixture at Downton, so very strong and solid like the stones of the house itself. The pants and trousers, neatly pressed and spotless and the impeccably shined shoes … all pieces of his outer self which told a far different story than she one she was seeing now. With his guard down and her fingers deftly caressing his bare chest, she was grateful to be the only person capable of breaching the barrier between his stern exterior and his much softer, gentler, loving side. Even his hair could be a witness to the stark differences in the time and place. Normally, he would be mortified to find a hair out of place, one rogue lock of his hair daring to break free, but now, as she explored more of him, drawing him out of his shell, his hair was mussed. That one little curl which fell ever so teasingly onto his forehead, taunting her to reach out and touch it … that one little curl reminded them both of the follies of youth, of carefree nights such as this when nothing mattered except giving and receiving love in abundance.

As the last of her garments pooled at her feet, Charles suddenly felt a surge of protectiveness. There was nothing between them now, nothing to stand in the way of their happiness and the desires of the heart and flesh. He suddenly wondered if the room was too cold or if her body was simply that aroused by his touch and his words. He felt suddenly very nervous thinking he might not be good enough for her, might not be skilled enough to pleasure her, would perhaps be found lacking in some basic way which would leave her unsatisfied. Then, one look into her blue eyes and suddenly everything and everyone in the world melted away leaving him staring at the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. She seemed to erase all of his fears, his doubts, his concerns without the use of a single word, merely her touch and her eyes which beckoned him to continue, challenged him to claim what she was giving him freely.

She blushed under his gaze, desperately wondering what was going through his mind. His eyes were dark as they embraced every nuance of her body, every curve, dimple, freckle … he seemed to be committing everything to memory. She heard rather than felt her pulse quicken as he reached out his fingertips to lightly stroke her hardened nipples. His touch was so very light, sending a delicious heat surging through her entire body. She bit her bottom lip to stifle the throaty moan which threatened to tumble from her lips. Her legs suddenly seemed weak, much like her resolve and patience, but she remained motionless, watching his face as his gaze fixated on the movements of his hands as they brought her immense pleasure. The air in the room thickened as she watched his head slowly close the distance, slowly lower to her breast. Her breaths quickened as his tongue slipped past his lips to stroke the hardened peak, followed soon by his moist lips drawing the rosy nipple into his warm mouth, bathing it with love and tenderness, with desire and heat, sending her head back in happiness and thrusting her body towards him, begging for more.

However, she was determined not to let him leave her side without doing a bit of exploration of her own. As his lips and tongue coaxed moans from her mouth as they suckled her breast, her hands were busy sliding over his skin, skimming down his ribcage then around to his bottom. She cupped his cheeks, digging in her nails just enough to leave little crescent shapes behind as she pulled him closer, instinctively backing her way across the room and luring him with her to the bed which longed to be used. She stopped only when the backs of her legs touched the edge of the bed, then she wrapped her shapely leg around his and drawing him deeper into her embrace, enfolding him in her arms, wrapping him in warmth. She pressed her body tightly against his as she nipped the edge of his shoulder, leaving a faint red mark which would fade by morning but would serve as a reminder of the depth of excitement and passion surging through her. If the opportunity presented itself, and she was almost certain it would, she would leave a little mark elsewhere on his body, somewhere he would see it and be reminded of their time together. It would be a reminder of what they shared and the abandonment of it all. Yes, she would mark him … make him her own… and she knew just where to leave that mark.

When she pressed her body to his, wrapped her leg around his and drew him closer, Charles nearly forgot his own name. Her moist heat coaxing him closer, teasing him, encouraging him to take her to another plane was almost too much to bear. Still, he could not be deterred in his quest to bring Elsie Hughes the utmost pleasure on this particular night. However much he wanted, no needed, to find a powerful release, tonight was not about that. Tonight was about showing her his love, proving to her that he found her absolutely amazing, incredibly sensual, and utterly irresistible in every way. Her needs would come first this night. Her desires and longings, her fantasies and dreams … they were what were most important. With skill and ease, he lowered his head to hers, capturing her lips in a heated kiss as he scooped her into his arms. Gently, he laid her on the bed then slipped onto the mattress beside her. Pausing only for a brief moment to let his eyes drink in the sight of her from the top of her head to the tips of her toes, he lowered his lips to kiss hers while his hand started on a quest much lower, much warmer, much needier.

She gasped as he lifted her effortlessly, as if she weighed no more than the pillow upon which her head now rested. But she should have known he would have no problems. He was, after all, Charles Carson, the butler of Downton Abbey. Strong, of mind and of will, not to mention sheer physical strength. He made her feel safe and secure, as if nothing could touch her without his permission. She belonged to him, completely and without question, though she never felt he tried to dominate her, tried to own her. She only felt love and devotion, a confidante with whom she could share her deepest secrets, her most cherished dreams, her most erotic fantasies. And here she was … sharing all those things and more with him. She was sharing herself, completely and without any reservations.

Seconds turned to minutes which turned into hours. Sometimes he would hover over her. Other times, she would stretch out on top of him. Tender touches and movements, unrushed and always designed to bring the utmost pleasure drew soft sighs and deep moans from their lips and into the room. Legs tangled together, rubbing against each other. Arms were held securely above his head or hers, sometimes wrapped securely around the others neck but always open to whatever was about to happen next. Lips and tongues skimmed heated skin, eliciting the most delicious sounds or causing the receiver to writhe in pleasure, lost in the moment and the incredible passion of it all. Hot breaths sent shivers down their spines as naughty words were whispered softly into their lovers' ears. Hands roamed freely over every part of the body, remembering past pleasures and always seeking new ones, drawing on all the senses to create a powerful connection of the body, mind, and soul.

It is moments after they've collapsed together, a tangle of arms and legs and ragged breaths before either of them dares to speak. They've spoken of love and pleasures as they were making love but now, in the afterglow of the ecstasy they speak of other things. He reminds her how beautiful she is to him. She tells him he is still the only man she will ever love. He smiles, knowing she is being completely honest and she returns his smile thinking the very same thing of him.

In the darkness, he draws the blanket over them, tucking her head beneath his chin as he holds her close, once more encasing her in that protective embrace. His right hand reaches out and fumbles towards the small table near the bed until he finds the prize. She has, of course, already seen his humble gift, but he wants to remind her once more.

"A single red rose for my Valentine, Elsie Hughes … a symbol of my utmost devotion to you, to our love, to spending the remainder of my life making you happy. I love you."

She accepts the rose and brings it to her lips, kissing the soft petals then offering him her best smile in return, her eyes sparkling with a wealth of emotions, the foremost of them being love and contentment. "I love you, too. This has been the best Valentine's Day I've ever had. I owe it all to you, Charles Carson, my Valentine for now and always."

**THE END!**

Thanks for taking the time to read the story. We would love to hear your thoughts on how we did. Reviews are much appreciated!


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